


Hero With A Purpose

by DixieDale



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 23:30:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Every man needs a purpose, especially a Hero.   A very short introspective piece about how one Hero sees HIS purpose.





	Hero With A Purpose

Carter had come into Stalag 13 with a world's load of apprehension. He'd just tunneled OUT of a prisoner of war camp, for heaven's sake! Now he was being told to head INTO another??? Somehow, he'd been caught up in the urgency, had gone along, (well, those barking, snarling dogs and the armed guards helped in his decision), and now was, at least temporarily ensconced in Stalag 13. He'd met those involved in the crazy operation, though why they'd been so open with him, he didn't know. It didn't make any sense. No more than it made any sense later after they'd sent him on his way, his reversing course, finding his way back, to make his own place among those unsung heroes. 

Then, he knew that it DID make sense. He had a purpose here. Somehow, he had the oddest feeling it wasn't a purpose written boldly across the night sky, but a subtext he couldn't yet read; still, he had a purpose here. Now, just to discover what that was.

At first, he thought it was to make bombs. Well, it was something he knew how to do, was pretty good at, and it seemed they sure needed someone like that. They'd had a few missions go sour because the stuff they'd gotten from the Underground, from London had been unreliable. Nothing like risking your life to get a bomb in place, wait in eager anticipation of the results, and see something more like a Fourth of July firecracker instead of an explosion. Boy, talk about a letdown!

Then, he decided maybe it was equally his ability to confuse Schultz so completely, distracting him from the monkey-business the guys had going on. He'd gotten really good at that!

At one time, he'd thought it was his new-found talent for impersonations, aided and abetted by some severe training, along with some highly critical complaining, by the extremely talented Englishman in their unit, Peter Newkirk.

Somewhere along the way, very, very early on, he decided whatever else he offered, an important part was the ability to distract the guys, at least a little, from the boredom, the melancholia, the fear and worry inherent in their circumstances. So, it meant a little play-acting, becoming, in their eyes, a naive, bumbling if good-natured fool; it was worth that to see the relief from the tension in their eyes, even if it was short-lived. So part of his purpose, as he saw it, was to become a tag-along little brother, not too bright, sometimes annoying but still family.

A new purpose came to him the longer he knew his barracks mate, Peter Newkirk. Now, there was a man who really needed someone to show him the GOOD things about life; Newkirk seemed to have forgotten how to look up to the stars, to see any of the wonders there were in the world. Oh, Andrew understood there were bunches of BAD things in the world too, bad people, bad things happening. But it wasn't ALL like that! So, gradually, he teased, and badgered, and coaxed, and harried the Englishman in the direction Andrew thought he needed to go. He'd been making real good progress, too, when things changed, and he discovered he had a new purpose. Well, two actually.

The first was to keep Colonel Hogan from destroying the man Peter Newkirk was, the good if overly cynical, the kind if ever complaining, the brave if conflicted man Andrew had come to know. And the last? Well, that was to love Peter Newkirk, as much as Peter would allow and accept; to show him he was WORTHY of being loved. The first was going to be real hard, he knew that; the Colonel was very, very good at everything he did. The last, though? Well, Andrew figured that was in the bag, piece of pie, no problem whatsoever. Heck, he already had a real good start on that!

Yes, when Andrew Carter lay back in his bunk at night, he'd think and go over the various purposes he had claimed for himself here in Stalag 13. It wouldn't be easy, none of it, he knew. But still, what was a man without a purpose? And, when it came right down to it, Andrew was very, very lucky. He didn't have just one purpose; he had enough to keep him busy all through this war. Lucky, that's what HE'D call it!


End file.
